


The Devil on Your Shoulder

by fritzbitz



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Humor, Sexual Tension, inquisitor is a bit of an antihero, post-game but before trespasser, she's almost as much of a shit as Imshael and Imshael is GRADE A SHIT, there's gonna be sex 'kay?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fritzbitz/pseuds/fritzbitz
Summary: When Kendra Trevelyan received message from one Michel de Chevin about trouble in Sahrnia (again) she certainly didn't expect that trouble to involve a particularly unstable rift on the lake (reopened), far too much red lyrium (still), and an unnecessarily snarky desire demon she was sure she had killed already - a demon who, for reasons that may or may not be related to the rift, only she can see. Unfortunately for everyone involved, said demon may just be the key to closing this rift for good; a task with which he is (unsettlingly) all to eager to help with.





	1. Call me surprised

**Author's Note:**

> I write a lot of angst. Angst is cool and all, but sometimes I just want to write a good, humorously smutty adventure, you know? Without further ado, please enjoy our heroes as they try their hardest not to enjoy being in this story.
> 
> Please note, this takes place between the main game and Tresspasser. The Inquisition still has plenty of rift-related fires to put out.

Kendra hated the cold, and she really needed to make sure that the entire Inquisition knew that so she would stop being asked to go traipsing to the ass-ends of Ferelden and Orlais without any more than a please and thank you. She was getting so tired of thanks. What's that phrase? Give a man a fish, teach him to fish, get your own damned fish Thedas, the Inquisitor has a very important date with a warm beach somewhere far, far away from all your world-ending disaster.  
  
"You look like you just bit into a lemon," Scout Harding remarked when a snowflake speared into Kendra's eye.  
  
"I think that would be preferable. I'm cold, wet, and we're heading to where it's colder and wetter and has demons."  
  
Harding smiled up at her. "Sometimes it's easy to forget you used to be a pampered noble."  
  
"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Because it's pretty hard to forget what being warm, dry, and in a soft bed is like."  
  
"Come on, Inquisitor," Harding said with her infectious enthusiasm. "Where's your sense of adventure?"  
  
"Inside."  
  
Kendra's sullen mood won the day, and Harding let them ride in silence the rest of the way to Sahrnia. It looked much the same as it had when she last visited the town three months before - dilapidated, unpolulated, and alternatingly cast in green and red depending on the nearest _evil magic thing._ Michel de Chevin had been entirely accurate in his letter when he said the old rift had reopened even larger than before. How did this happen? The biggest and baddest of the breaches had been closed for months. New ones shouldn't be opening. Not unless something went wrong when she closed this rift in the first place.  
  
Michel had been right to summon her, as much as she hated to be here.  
  
They made their way through the town and toward Suledin Keep. She noted the progress of the Inquisition's cleanup efforts - it would be some time before Sahrnia was liveable again, but at least as they got closer to the Keep the instances of red lyrium became more and more scarce. Still not somewhere she'd go for a picnic, ignoring the snow, but Kendra took a small amount of pride in seeing her Inquisition doing some good here none the less.  
  
As they reached the gate, the outline of a broad, blonde chevalier came into view. Michel de Chevin must have heard about their approach from scouts, and so waited anxiously for their arrival.  
  
"See Michel," Kendra called in greeting, applying her best Friendly Diplomatic Smile despite the cold cracking her lips. "It is good to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances."  
  
"As do I," he said, solemnly, as he offered a hand first to Kendra and then to Harding to help them off their horses. Harding smiled and held Michel's eyes with her own for a perceivable moment, to which Kendra struggled to hold a snicker. Here stands the Inquisition's best scout, batting her eyelashes like a Chantry girl at the smallest act of chivalry.  
  
"None the less," he continued once Harding gave him his hand back, "Inquisitor Trevelyan, Scout Harding, thank you for answering my call for aid."  
  
"Of course," Kendra answered.  
  
"Well? Let's go get this thing closed up!" Harding said as if it were the easiest thing in the world and not something which took a great deal of effort from someone who was distinctly _not her._  
  
"Actually, I would like a moment to rest first. We have been riding since dawn, and I would like to approach this with all my strength. Have quarters been prepared for us?" She hated to extinguish Harding's dreams of being the hero in front of her new crush (oh how much fun she was going to have teasing her about that on the ride back to Skyhold), but she really needed a moment to rest, maybe something to eat, and honestly by that point it would be dark and better left for the next day anyways. Her desire to wait was in no way related to the faint hope that it would not be actively snowing in the morning.  
  
"Yes, of course," Michel said, but when Kendra took a step toward the gate she saw him open his mouth and hesitate. She raised a questioning eyebrow. "There's more you should know about this rift," he added, cautiously.  
  
_Of-fucking-course._  
  
"No one has been able to approach it. It doesn't seem particularly active. Few demons come through it each day, and those that do are quickly disposed of. But whenever one of us goes too close, the rift lashes out - some have been violently thrown back, others frozen in place until someone dragged them away. When I tried to approach, the wind and snow picked up so much that I was unable to continue. My hope is that your mark will allow you to move freely toward it, but if not we may have to find another way."  
  
Michel's description of the rift's behavior was... odd. Kendra was no mage, and to be quite honest felt rather out of place whenever the metaphysics of the Fade and the breach entered conversation. And here was this hopeful piece of muscle asking for her expert opinion. "We've never dealt with anything like this," she answered while processing her thoughts. "It could be the work of a demon in the rift - a very powerful one to do something like this."  
  
Michel nodded. "Yes, that's what I was afraid of." His expression darkened. Kendra could hardly even claim to know him, but clearly the man did not like his demons. An admirable trait, she supposed.  
  
Tired of speculation, Kendra waved them inside. "There's nothing we can do now, not until I know if it will let me get close or not. Ser Michel, if you would, please notify those who have had the most contact with the rift, as well as any mages who may be of use. In the morning, we will attempt to close it."  
  
"Inquisitor," he responded, dutifully. She loved moments like this, handing out competent instruction and not having a bit of it questioned. Perhaps there was some value in a chevalier's training after all. "I will have someone show you and Scout Harding to your quarters."  
  
\--  
  
Baron Desjardins, it turned out, was away on business. This worked wonderfully for Kendra, as it meant she got the best room in the Keep. Once she had eaten and engaged in the expected pleasantries with Inquisition agents around the Keep, she happily retreated to the Baron's quarters, cleaned and repurposed for her stay.  
  
She spread herself onto the bed immediately, enjoying how the soft mattress cradled her aching back. She stayed that was as long as she could, until the nagging pain from her scabbards digging into her back demanded she change into something more suited for leisure.  
  
She undressed, feeling immediate relief from the removal of the still icy clothing. She contemplated just going to bed like that, but it was early yet. She should be decent in the event of visitors. Still, she took her time sorting through her small pack for trousers and a warm button down. She pulled her hair from its tie, letting copper curls tickle across her naked shoulders before finally dressing.  
  
Once clothed, she made her way toward the vanity mirror, brush in hand, to fight the tangles from her hair. She shifted - a figure reflected in the mirror and disappeared just as suddenly. She let out a sudden gasp of surprise before turning around. She brandished her brush as a weapon, and with courage far exceeding her current level of control over the situation, demanded, "Who's there?"  
  
A man's voice to her left, far from where she spotted the intruder, caused her to jump again. "Inquisitor. How nice to see you again."  
  
She turned, finally getting a good look at him. "You..." The figure was tall, slender, with dark, deep-set eyes complimented by a head of brown hair stark against deathly pale skin. She had seen this man, who was not quite a man, once before in this place. "Imshael. Doesn't a demon know how to stay dead?"  
  
He shook his head in amusement. "I'm getting rather tired of reminding you - it's _choice spirit."_ Kendra looked around the room for something she could use as a weapon. Her daggers lay with a pile of clothes near where he stood, between her and the door. She wouldn't be able to take him on herself, especially unarmed. "Oh, stop looking at me like I'm about to bite. I only want to talk. Perhaps with less violence than last time."  
  
She tightened her grip on the hair brush she still held out as if it would be of any use against an ancient demon, snarling as she spoke. "I don't make deals with demons."  
  
He shrugged. "Well, it's a good thing that I'm a spirit, then. You seem to have no trouble dealing with those."  
  
"I beat you once, and still you're coming back for more with the same old lines."  
  
He kicked the daggers toward her and took some cautious steps backward. She discarded the brush for the daggers immediately, never taking her eyes off him.  
  
"I give you those as a sign of goodwill. Now, can we both behave like civilized people for just a moment?" He reached the far wall, and held up both hands in a sign of surrender before pulling the chair out from the desk near him and taking a seat. His posture was all casual confidence, and she wanted to slice him into tiny pieces for how little he regarded her own power. She would have tried, too, if not for the voice in the back of her head which said he was probably related to whatever was going on with the rift.  
  
She lowered her daggers, and took a seat on the edge of the bed to face him. She hoped she was succeeding in mimicking his confidence. "Talk," she demanded.  
  
"Well, it's a start," he drawled, an entirely unsettling smirk cutting across his face. "I'm not here to antagonize you. If I was, I'd have come out while you were undressing." She willed herself not to wince, blush, or otherwise acknowledge that he had absolutely been watching her lounge around naked. He was looking for a reaction. "It's a little cold for that, don't you think? I know you noticed."  
  
That smirk again. She picked up a dagger and thrust it toward him. "Give me a reason not to cut you down. Fast."  
  
He crossed his legs and rested his hands behind his head, his long body completely vulnerable to attack. As if the power inside him needed much more than a thought to unleash. "Calm yourself, I'll play nice. I just wanted to thank you for the show. Now, on to business. I want to help you close that rift."  
  
She tried not to let the surprise show on her face. "Tell me what you know about it."  
  
"Not much, but more than you. And I'm more than happy to offer my services if you'll stop threatening violence." He arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking past the dagger and straight into her eyes. Daring her to make a move. She lowered the weapon. "I knew we could come to an agreement. Now, about this rift - you were right, earlier. There is a very powerful demon controlling it. One who isn't me," he added quickly.  
  
"And why are you helping me?"  
  
He grinned what could probably be mistaken for a disarming smile if it wasn't coming from a demon. "Whoever it is in there really doesn't want me back in the Fade."  
  
It was her turn to quip. "I can't imagine who wouldn't want your company."  
  
He took the insult almost gracefully, much to her disdain. "Plenty of people don't appreciate what I have to offer. Almost as many as those who do."  
  
She scowled. "We're not talking about people."  
  
"My comment stands."  
  
This was getting them nowhere, and by the look of smug satisfaction on the demon's face, he was rather enjoying her frustration. "Look," she said, trying to drive the conversation onto something resembling the right tracks. "I don't like you. I don't want to have anything to do with you, and I really wish you'd have just died when I killed you. But right now, we both want the same thing, so you're going to help me - you're going to tell me what you know, then you're going to shut up and get out of my way while I do my job. Do you understand, demon?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes, yes, but if you would _please_ stop throwing around ugly words like demon." Kendra refused to let up her scowl. If this was a battle of wills, she would not give in. After a moment of holding her glare, Imshael shifted, leaning forward in his chair to look at her better. "I'll let you in on a little secret. You of all people have no reason to be afraid of me, and I'm not just saying that because of the bruises I left with after our last meeting. Think of me as a desire demon, if that is what you wish; you are clearly such a stranger to desire that there is nothing I could offer you that you wouldn't take on your own."  
  
"You think you know me so well?"  
  
"Yes. Mortals are simple. I've seen enough of you to know that _you_ are not the type to wish for something, to pine for it with no recourse; and this is to say nothing of the thoughts leaking out of your mind. Were I a simple desire demon, we would be in quite a bind."  
  
"But you are a _choice spirit."_ She spit out the words as if they were a curse.  
  
He smiled, wide and fox-like. "Now you understand." He stood slowly and took two long, graceful steps toward her, never breaking eye contact. Kendra fought the urge to reach for her dagger again, but she knew any sign that his words or actions fazed her would only give him more satisfaction. He took a seat beside her on the bed, far too close for comfort.  
  
"Unfortunately for me," he continued, "I'm in a bit of a bind. See, normally I wouldn't make an offer without some hidden motive behind it. It's just business, I'm sure you understand. In this case, I'm laying all my cards on the table. I want to get out of here. I'm tired of walking this world for now. With all the trouble of these rifts and lesser demons falling out of the Fade it's a very bad time to be a civilized spirit. No one trusts me. I would like nothing more than to jump back through that rift before you close it and never bother you again, but for those things to happen _we need each other_. So, here's my offer - will you let me help you close this rift, or not?"  
  
She looked him over, disdain apparent on her face. She knew better than to trust him, despite his professed innocence. He was anything but. But as long as she kept that in mind, she could control him. "Fine."  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent. I shall accompany you to the rift tomorrow, then."  
  
"Michel de Chevin will be there. Are you sure you want to show your face around him?"  
  
He chuckled. "That man is more kitten than lion. Besides, I have my ways. Well, truthfully, it's taking a lot of energy for me to materialize just enough for you to see me." He put his hand on her shoulder; she flinched involuntarily at the touch, could and rough, but before she had time to swat him away his hand imperceptibly passed through her. "See?" he said. "It'll be like I'm barely there."  
  
"How..." she stammered, intrigued.  
  
"We both exist somewhere between the mortal world and the Fade. Me more than you, obviously. Things just haven't been the same since you tried to kill me," he mused before suddenly standing. Kendra stood with him, her eyes following his. At this proximity, she was forced to look up to continue her glare. They were far too close for comfort, but she wasn't about to back down now, not after accepting a deal on his terms. She could feel his breath icy hot tickling her hair, and she wondered if she were to shove him away whether she would pass straight through.   
  
"Well, I must be off," he said suddenly, as he turned to make his way to the balcony. "I look forward to tomorrow. Sweet dreams," he said with a smile and wave as he turned the corner out of sight.

Just as he had appeared, he was gone.   
  
Once she was certain he was gone, Kendra threw herself back onto the bed in relief, massaging her forehead with both hands as all the tension was released from her body. Her limbs felt like gelatin, but at least she was alone. Or, as alone as she could be knowing that she shared lodging with an incorporeal desire demon. 

"What the fuck did I just get myself into?"


	2. Repeat Trauma to the Head

Kendra tried her best to ignore the demon shadowing her. To acknowledge him would make _her_ look like the strange one, as it seemed like he was truly invisible to everyone else.

Michel, Harding, and a small group of agents who Kendra assumed to be the ones she asked Michel to assemble the day before waited for her at the gate. In the corner of her eye, she could see Imshael beside her regarding Michel with a look of pure smug satisfaction. And, honestly, as much as she hated the demon she did rather enjoy the irony.

"Inquisitor? Hello?" Harding asked in a joking tone. "Are you ok?"

"Huh? Sorry, did you say something?"

"I only asked if you rested well, and I think I got my answer." _Shit._ She had hardly met with her agents yet, and already she was spacing out from the task of simultaneously watching and ignoring Imshael.

"I'm fine," she said, attempting to laugh it off. "You know me and mornings. We don't get along."

"You don't get along with many things sometimes, Inquisitor," Harding said, her knowing smile softening any disrespect in the words.

Kendra composed herself before addressing the others. "Michel, thank you for gathering this team." She scanned over the anxious faces of the three agents he had assembled in an effort to ignore Imshael as he circled behind Michel with all the grace and threat of a cat who had cornered the mouse.

"He seemed taller before," came the demon's voice.

"My pleasure," Michel responded to her dutifully. Roper and Carlyle have both come in contact with the rift. Sanna is the only mage stationed here.

Sanna spoke up, her Dalish accent lithe as a songbird. "I'm certainly no expert, but I will do what I can to help."

Imshael - behind her now, whispered in Kendra's ear. "I'm surprised Michel can look a Dalish in the eye anymore. You should ask him about Clan Virnehn sometime. It's a terribly fun story. For me, at least."

"Thank you all," she said, addressing the group. Imshael laughed softly as he moved from her side. Kendra shivered slightly from the cold touch of his breath on her neck. "Shall we go? You can brief me on the way, and with any luck I will be able to walk right to the rift and this meeting will have been pointless."

The three agents had little to share that she didn't already know about the rift. It opened a little over a fortnight ago, and despite the violent activity from the rift itself there had been relatively few demons coming from it. As far as anyone could tell, it was in the same place as the last rift; if it had shifted, it wasn't by enough to notice. Sanna explained that there was a certain energy coming from it that she hadn't sensed before, but she couldn't do much more to explain that energy. She was no Fade expert, only a healer, and hadn't been in contact with other rifts. All she could offer was that the energy coming from the rift felt like the Fade, but not. Something more whispered in its power, and it was something she was unable to name, only that it felt _wrong._

As they reached the rift, Kendra didn't need magic to know this wasn't like the others. She felt a chill in her bones that had nothing to do with the snow.

* * *

 

Kendra felt the air rush from her lungs as she hit the ice. Her head came crashing down next and she saw stars.

"Inquisitor! Are you hurt?" Harding shouted, dropping to her knees beside her.

She willed her eyes to focus on her friend's face, but the pounding in her head made that difficult. "No, probably not. I... What happened?" she asked, surprised with how slurred her voice sounded.

"The rift took you for a bit of a ride," Harding answered.

Right, the rift.

Kendra shifted herself up to a sitting position, but the pounding in her head only amplified. Harding urged her to lay back down, while to her other side she saw Imshael offer a hand to help her up.

She reached to take it, and passed straight through.

"Oops," he said with a grin.

"Asshole!" she shouted in his direction, despite herself.

Harding looked toward Michel and then back at Kendra with concern in her eyes. "I think you should really lay back down."

She sat, bracing herself against her knees while the world spun again. "I'll be ok," she said after taking a moment to breathe.

Sanna sat beside her. "You hit your head very hard. You need healing. I can help mend the pain, but we need to get you to a medic."

Kendra sighed and layed back down to let the mage do her work. It was surreal, looking up into the snow-greyed sky and seeing the faces of her companions peeking down at her from the corner of her vision. Harding and Michel showed concern; Sanna was all concentration as she cast her magic. And Imshael wore the contented smirk of someone who greatly enjoyed the misfortune of others.

"Ok," Sanna said, the glow of her magic cooling. "Let's get her up. Inquisitor, do you think you can walk?"

Kendra laughed, or tried to, but it came out sounding more like a cough. "I've seen worse injuries than this." It had hardly been the first time she hit her head.

Perhaps that was the problem.

"Let me help you," Michel said as he crouched beside her to offer her his shoulder to pull her up. She rose to a sitting position and braced herself against him as they rose together. Once up, her vision spun again. She felt certain the world was sideways. She leaned further into Michel to steady herself. "Are you going to be ok to walk?"

"Yeah, thanks, just keep me upright. Everything feels... left."

Sanna spoke up once Kendra had gotten reacquainted with the rhythm of walking. "Inquisitor, what do you remember from before your injury?"

That was a great question. She knew she had tried to go towards the rift, but it would be a lie to say she remembered taking the steps. There was a flash of green - or was it red? "The rift pushed me back. I think... There was a bright flash of red from it. Rifts are green, yeah?" The cold, magic that felt like whispers on the back of your neck. She knew this, but never from a rift itself. "I... Lyrium, I think. There was red lyrium in its magic."

From beside her came Imshael's voice. "Just as observant as you are fragile, it seems."

She did her best to glare in his direction. Once her companions were finished fussing over her, she and her pet demon were going to have a chat about this supposed "help" he was offering.

Just as soon as the splitting headache that came from the act of glaring was dealt with. They really couldn't get to the camp physician fast enough.

* * *

 

For the second time that day, Kendra woke with no memory of how she got to where she was. She looked around. Her quarters at the Keep. She had a bitter taste in her mouth, and everything felt very far away. And slightly purple. Or maybe it smelled purple? It was hard to tell her senses apart, obviously they couldn't be trusted.

To her side, Scout Harding. She stirred and attempted to smile at her, but she couldn't be sure her face was doing what she asked. Harding saw her stirring, and let out a quiet laugh. "Just take it easy, Inquisitor. The doctor gave you the good stuff, so you should be all better in a few hours."

"Great fun, this. I had assumed that watching you moan and groan in bed would really be more stimulating." Imshael. Still here, leaning over her above Harding. It was a bit comical, seeing their extreme height difference from this angle. It probably wasn't quite as funny as Kendra's hiccuping laugh would suggest, but she found herself entirely a victim to her giggles.

"Inquisitor, please, just rest," Harding said warmly.

"Yes, Inquisitor, by all means, we have nowhere to go."

She tried to glare at him, but again, she couldn't be certain what her face was doing. At least she managed eye contact without the world getting too upside down. That eye contact quickly distracted her from the attempted anger. "You have very pretty eyes," she slurred at him.

"Umm..." came a stammer from Harding.

"They're blue! I thought they were all dark and mean 'cuz I didn't bother to play attention, but they're blue and kinda sparkly. I like them," she said as if it was a grand revelation.

"Yeah, thanks," Harding replied, uncertain. "They're actually green, but close enough."

"Oh, yours are very pretty too, Lace."

Harding looked over her shoulder and quickly scanned the room. "I'm going to get the doctor, you just... don't go anywhere."

* * *

 

She woke again, groggy but mentally present enough for once. The chair beside her bed where Harding had been now held a sleeping Michel. The room was dark but for a short candle on the desk. Had she really slept through the entire day? It felt as if no time had passed at all. The aching and spinning sensation was gone at least, though now she felt a stiffness in her neck and jaw.

"Awake again," came Imshael's voice from the corner. "Going to invite me to a tea party with a druffalo again, or are you coherent?" She groaned inwardly.

"Did you really have to be here all day?" she wishpered, trying not to wake the sleeping chevalier while she talked to the darkness.

"Someone had to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit as you slept, and I don't see him doing much."

She laughed through her nose as she pulled herself to a seated position to look at him better. "And what would you have done to help?"

"Watch, probably. Maybe not helping, but more fun."

"Yes, it seems the idea of being helpful is rather foreign to you. Why didn't you tell me about the red lyrium?" she demanded.

"It didn't seem necessary, and clearly it wasn't. You found it all on your own." He walked at a slow, leisurely pace as he spoke, forcing her to turn to follow him. "When there is something you _can't_ do without me, then I will offer my assistance."

She pulled herself to the edge of the bed and tested her strength before standing. It was clear she needed to be of a more demanding presence if she was to get anything from him. "That's not good enough. You offered me your help, and so far all I have is a head injury and more questions. You _will_ actually help me, or I promise I will make you regret ever showing your face here again."

He sighed. "I told you before, there's little that I know about this which you don't. Less, now that you've seen the lyrium. You had your own plan before I ever came into the picture, and I got the impression that you wouldn't enjoy me telling you about how it wasn't going to work. Since you're so quick to threaten violence, I thought I might watch my step. If you want me to play nice, you're going to have to do the same."

She walked towards him with as much grace and certainty as she could muster as she spoke in hushed fury. "I don't play nice with demons."

He snickered, and made himself solid just enough to give her a light push out of the way as he made his way to where Michel still slept. His expression was the same relaxed amusement that it always was, but his movements were coiled and tense, a predator on the hunt. He spoke, his voice low, clear, and deliberate. "If you want a demon, I can give you one." He looked down at Michel, scrutinizing. "I wonder what he would look like if I turned him inside out? And your dwarf, the one with the pretty eyes. I bet it takes a lot to make her scream."

"You can't. You're weaker here, you said that yourself," she said with the conviction to convince even herself.

"Yes, but how much? Are you really willing to take that chance? You've backed me into a corner, and now you think I won't bite?"

She took long, assured steps toward him, not thinking but acting. Grabbing at his collar, she shoved him into the wall and pinned him in place. It only served to fuel her anger that he let her.

"If you so much as lay a finger on anyone here," she hissed, "I will do everything in my power to end you as slowly and painfully as I can manage."

He pushed against the arm that held him to the wall, but she held firm. A sideways smile cut across his face. "And if I like pain?"

_"I wonder what you would look like if I turned you inside out?"_ She tightened her hold on him, wiping the grin from his face. _"I_ don't deal with demons. _Demons deal with me."_

Michel stirred at the sound of her raised voice. Motioning in his direction, Imshael whispered, "Careful, wouldn't want him to see you yelling at the wall."

Kendra's face hardened as she acquiesced, setting him free. Imshael rubbed his shoulder and stretched, enjoying freedom, but a slight hesitation to his smug grin showed uncertainty. She won, and they both knew it.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll tell you what I know about the lyrium."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of the concussion courtesy of that time I got one from hitting my head falling backwards onto ice because I am a shitty figure skater who doesn't know how to fall correctly. Mine took a lot longer to heal without magic.
> 
> I promise more action next chapter ~~uggh get to the porn already~~


End file.
